Bride of Voldemort
by Binks95
Summary: A/U: The war is over, Harry Potter is dead and Voldemort is one step away from taking over the world. All traitors have been killed and muggle-borns and half-bloods now slave for the death eaters. The last few survivors are still stuck at Hogwarts, waiting for Voldemort to make his first move.
1. Prologue

It's tragic isn't it? You always think that good will conquer evil, light will overcome dark... But the sad thing is, this is real life and in real life fairy tale endings don't exist...  
Everybody was filled with false hope when Harry Potter 'returned from the dead'. We all felt a sudden vigour, a sudden confidence. It didn't take a mind reader to know what everybody was thinking,  
"Yes! We're going to win this war!"  
But who could blame them? 'The Boy Who Lived' was now 'The Boy Who Lived, Again'! How on Earth could we possibly lose now with a hero who was pretty much indestructible?  
By the time everybody realised how wrong they were, there were only a few hundred students left alive. It was awful... Burned into everyone's minds was the image of 'The Chosen One' surrounded by Voldemort and his Death Eaters; no escape... He didn't stand a chance.  
All it took was one quick flash and our saviour, our hero was gone...  
This time he did not open his eyes. He did not jump magically back to life. He just lay there, cold, still... dead.  
Oh God... the wails and cries of the witches and wizards who had sacrificed everything. We had been fighting for nothing, and now that Voldemort had won we all knew only more people were going to die at the hands of this monster.  
He appointed himself headmaster of our ruined school. Half-bloods or mud-bloods that were still alive were to clean up, single-handedly and without magic... After all they weren't worthy of a wizard's wand...  
The only people left were pure-bloods. Except for the Weasley's who had been killed for being 'blood traitors'. Draco Malfoy had been made head of the Student Body while his father was now Voldemort's right hand man. Unfortunately his wife, Narcissa was killed for lying to the Dark Lord about Harry Potter's death.  
No one was allowed to go home that summer, not even the seventh years. Supposedly Voldemort still needed us for important business, whatever that meant... All we knew was the entire universe was facing destruction at the hands of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eater chums.  
After a week of complete silence from the Dark Lord he finally had us called to him, one by one so he could 'get to know us' personally...


	2. Part 1

"Desirae Matthews?"  
I stiffened at the sound of that Death Eater drawling my name. In my mind I'd been hoping this moment would not come, desperately repeating the words 'not me' over and over. Even now as I rose from my seat and followed the pale, dark eyed death eater, I didn't even want to imagine what was in store for me during this 'meeting'.  
He took me up the staircase that used to lead to Dumbledore's office. There were chunks of missing stone and cracks scattered across the formally smooth steps. Even the ride upwards seemed jittery, bumpy and even a bit lethargic as if the stone bird that controlled the staircase wasn't feeling quite himself today.  
When we finally reached the top we were stood in front of those large oak doors that used to feel so familiar... but now they were like the opening to hell.  
"Well? What you standing around for?" drawled the death eater. "Go in!"  
I jumped at his sudden raised voice, now even more nervous. With shaking hands I pushed open the heavy door and stepped inside.  
I shivered automatically upon entry. It was freezing cold and draughty due to chunks of wall that were missing and maybe even the presence of that evil man himself. I didn't notice him straight away but when I did my stomach leapt and I felt sick. For a moment he was sat with his back facing me but at the sound of my footsteps on the cold marble floor he turned around slowly, like a Bond villain.  
Before, I had only seen his face from afar and while it was scary then it was petrifying now... He was so pale his skin was almost transparent and all across it were purple and red veins that seemed to quiver and pulse. His eyes were red, his pupils like a snake's and his nose was only two dark slits in the centre of his face. He smiled a sickening smile which showed pointed teeth and then he gestured to the chair in front of him.  
"Sit down..."  
His voice chilled me to the very bone-it sounded like a hiss from deep in his throat and seemed to be a warning more than an offer.  
Swallowing, I approached the chair feeling his piercing eyes on my skin as I did so. When I sat down he was still staring at me and for a moment there was silence.  
Eventually he rose and began to walk around the office refusing to take his eyes off me the whole time. He seemed to circle me and take me in from all angles. When it seemed like he was satisfied he sat back down again.  
"Your name?"  
"...D-Desirae Matthews..."  
"When you are talking to me you will refer to me as sir, do you understand?"  
"Yes s-sir..."  
"Good... House?"  
"...Gryffindor sir..."  
"Hmm... Blood status?"  
"Pure blood sir."  
"And I should think so too..."  
I winced at this remark but was far too frightened to comment on it.  
"Look at me when I am talking to you, Desirae Matthews!"  
I bolted upright, meeting his blood red eyes. Again there was a silence where he seemed to stare into my very soul... eventually he said,  
"Desirae Matthews you look very tense," Voldemort seemed to smile at me, though I was trying my hardest not to look directly into his face. "Try and relax. After all, I hope we can become very firm friends."  
What on Earth does he mean by that!?  
Voldemort rose again. "Would you like a drink?"  
"No thank you sir," my throat was actually screaming out for some form of liquid but I wasn't going to accept anything from him.  
Voldemort walked to the window, completely disregarding the sloshing fountain of cool water in the corner of the room and the fancy crystal glasses stood next to it. This wasn't much of an interview...  
I looked around the circular, crumbling room. Almost all the portraits on the walls were empty except Professor Dumbledore's and one with 'Phineus Nigellus Black' written across the bottom. Professor Black seemed distracted and slightly agitated as if he'd been told some very bad news. Professor Dumbledore, on the other hand, was fast asleep at a time when I really wished he wasn't-even though he was just paint and canvas I would have felt a lot better if he was watching over my 'interview' with the Dark Lord.  
That's when I noticed a pair of dark eyes looking at me from above the Headmaster's desk. The potions master, Professor Snape, was staring at me over his pale, hooked nose. After meeting his eyes it was hard to tear them away.  
"Hello again, Miss Mathews," he said in the same deep, slow voice as if he were talking to a five-year-old.  
"Good evening, Professor..." I replied, slightly confused as to why he was talking to me.  
"You still owe me an essay..."  
"Yeah, I'll get it to you as soon as possible, Professor."  
Snape frowned, "Very funny, Miss Matthews. In case you haven't noticed I've been reduced to a 2D image, incapable of interacting with the physical world except through speech."  
"Stop hassling my students, Severus..."  
I jumped. Voldemort had crept up behind me, his pale, veiny hands wrapped around the back of my chair. He was staring at Professor Snape with venom in his eyes that said 'shut up before I burn your canvas'.  
"I apologise, my Lord," Snape replied, with almost equally as much spite.  
There was a pause and then Voldemort said, "You may go..."  
Vigorously, I jumped up from my seat and fled through the large oak doors, hoping never to have to return into that room...


	3. Part 2

I found myself unable to sleep for a good few nights, the vision of the Dark Lord's burning red eyes haunting my dreams. It seemed as if everywhere I went I could feel his piercing gaze on my back and those cold hands on my shoulders.  
One night I awoke to the velvety darkness of the dormitory. All around me was the peaceful breathing of my fellow Gryffindors as they slept, undisturbed. For a while I just stared into the blackness, unable to go back to sleep. I couldn't understand how everybody else could sleep when millions of innocent people were being killed in cold blood, or enslaved for lacking nothing but magical blood.  
Eventually I swept the burgundy sheets off my body and walked down the cold stone stairs to the common room. In the hearth were a few smouldering coals and embers as the fire burned down. I was starting to get bored with sitting aimlessly on the scarlet sofa whenever I couldn't sleep-besides it wasn't like I had teachers to give me homework. I was sick of worrying about everything and knew I had to distract myself. Ahead of me was the circular portrait hole, openly inviting me to go for a stroll around the darkened corridors of Hogwarts.  
I hesitated. To go out would be a huge risk... Voldemort had passed a rule negating anyone from leaving their common room after six o'clock exactly or else they would be 'punished accordingly'. I'd broken rules in my time but none of those involved risking torture from one of the Dark Lord's lackeys...  
I advanced toward the portrait hole, ignoring all my earlier doubts, as my need for a distraction was far greater than my fear of being punished. When I was outside in the cool air of the Hogwarts corridors I could hear the delicate snores of the fat lady-one of the few portraits that had not left their frames-behind me. From my sock I pulled my apple wood wand and lit it, casting a small orb of light just in front of me. I headed toward the staircase with light, deliberate footsteps-though as I walked I did not see nor hear a single Death Eater.  
Eventually, after half an hour of aimless wondering, I reached the entrance hall, now nothing but a crumbling mass of stone and masonry. Much of the fallen debris had been stacked into neat, little piles by the half-bloods and mud-bloods. That's when I noticed the body of a boy lying next to one of the piles. My heart leapt into my throat and I rushed to his side, relieved when I realised he was just sleeping... on the cold, dusty floor. He was slightly younger than me, though it was hard to tell as his face looked thin and sunken with cuts on his lips and cheeks. His light blond hair was flecked with grit and dirt and spotted with dry blood.  
The boy shivered against the cold wind and a pang of sympathy ran through me. I gathered together parts of the broken wooden beams and arranged them next to the boy.  
"Incendio," I muttered. A small tongue of fire burst from the end of my wand and met with the wood casting a magical heat.  
I gave the boy one last sympathetic gaze then headed towards the school grounds feeling more helpless than I had ever felt in my life.

After walking the grounds a few times I began to notice the sun peeking up from behind the trees of the forbidden forest and decided it would be best for me to go back to the common room. As I started up the stairs towards Gryffindor tower I was stopped by a poking pressure in my back.  
"Wh-what are you d-doing out of b-bed?"  
With a sigh I turned to face my captor and met the pale grey eyes of Draco Malfoy. He was looking a little worse for wear with dark circles under his eyes and sallow sunken cheeks. There were distinct streaks down his face, visible in the dim wandlight that looked like he had been crying-and no wonder-after all his mother had just been murdered for doing nothing more than giving the wizarding world a second hope.  
"I'm just going back," I replied. "I couldn't sleep."  
"That's n-no excuse!" he stammered with shaky breaths "You're going to b-be in serious trouble! Do you have a-any i-idea what they'll d-do to you?" It sounded more like a warning than a threat.  
"I know, I'm so-"  
"No, you don't know!" he cried, almost instantly regretting it. There was a silence where he just stared at the floor. I felt for him. Nobody deserves to go through the things he went through, even if he was never my favourite person...  
Eventually he took a deep breath and looked me in the eye.  
"Just... go..."  
With a small nod, I continued up the stairs listening to Draco's solemn steps as he walked away...


	4. Part 3

As I got closer to Gryffindor tower, my mind fixed on Draco Malfoy, I heard voices that snapped me out of my stupor. They were hushed and hasty-dangerous. My breath hitched in my throat, Draco's words echoing in my head. I glanced around the corner where three Death Eaters were crowded around the portrait of the fat lady, as if they were ganging up on her. Keeping close to my hiding place, I stopped and listened.

"Let us in, now!" spat one of the hooded men.

"Or what?" the fat lady retorted, sticking her nose high in the air and crossing her arms. "I don't want the likes of you in my common room!"

The same man held up his wand. It had a small flame flickering menacingly at the tip. "Say that again..."

I could see the fat lady swallow and shift on her feet but otherwise she did not budge. I was in awe of her bravery and felt a small smile across my lips as if I were watching a child stand up to a gang of bullies.

One of the other men pushed the Death Eater's wand down, giving him a warning glare.

"We're under strict instructions, remember?" he said. "Burning stupid paintings is not one of them."

"No one'll miss her..." replied the other, scowling at the fat lady who's tongue was pressed firmly against her cheek, as if she were trying hard to hold back from sticking her tongue out at him.

Finally, the third one spoke,

"You are being ordered by the headmaster of the school to let us in," he growled.

"And I am telling you-either the 'headmaster' comes to open the door himself or you give me the password," replied the fat lady.

The Death Eater sighed. "It's no use," he said. "We're going to have to get the password. The Dark Lord's not going to come down here at this time of night."

"Fine, but you're explaining this mishap to him," said the second. "Last time I was almost victim to his cruciatus curse... You'd be surprised what gets him really riled up..."

The men walked away, considerably disgruntled. I stayed put until they were all out of ear and eye shot and then emerged from my hiding place. The fat lady yawned and stretched as I approached, obviously having been woken from her deep sleep by those men. A gasp escaped from her mouth when she noticed me.

"Desirae!" she whispered, fervently. "What are you doing out here?!"

I went to answer but she cut me off.

"Those men were looking for you!"

My eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"They must know you're out of bed!" she said. "Quick! Get in here now!"

I nodded as the frame swung forward. Hastily, I crawled back into the common room that was now freezing cold and lit only by the early morning sun. I sat down on the lush, red sofa-one thing that had managed to evade almost total destruction-and sighed, somewhat glad to be back in the comfort of Gryffindor tower. However, fatigue still alluded me so I didn't bother to go back up to the dormitory, not wanting to risk waking my dorm-mates.

For a long while I just sat in silence, lost in my own troubled thoughts. Then, suddenly, the portrait hole was open again. My head turned swiftly to look and I spied one of the three Death Eaters from before. I jumped to my feet, almost defensively.

"The headmaster requests your presence," he said. "Urgently."

I looked at his smirking face and swallowed.

"It's a bit early in the morning for that, isn't it?" I answered.

"Perhaps you shouldn't have been out of bed then."

My mouth opened slightly in shock. So they did know! But how? Even under the legislation of Albus Dumbledore, security wasn't this strict. I considered denying it... but what good would that do?

"...Alright..."

The Death Eater made an 'after you' gesture. I obliged, hesitantly, trying to ignore the mantra of 'Do you have any idea what they'll do to you?!' that echoed in my head.

Outside, the other two men stood in waiting.

"Just to make sure you don't cause any trouble," said the first.

As we walked away I spared one last fleeting glance at the fat lady who looked on in pity. I saw her mouth the word 'sorry' but I didn't blame her. It was my fault... and now I'd have to pay the price.

The headmaster's office was exactly the room I had most definitely not wanted to return to. Ever.

But now, as I stared down at my feet, three Death Eater's behind me and the Dark Lord himself looking on, I began to wonder if it was just cruel, cruel fate.

"Tell me, Desirae Matthews..." the Dark Lord started, his voice menacingly calm. "Why were you out of bed from the late hours of last night to the early hours of this morning?"

I said nothing, standing stock still and watching as a few pieces of rubble rolled past.

"I would suggest you answer me, Miss Matthews..."

I swallowed. "I..."

"I believe the first time we met I told you to look at me when I talk to you..."

I shut my eyes briefly and took a deep breath. When I looked up I shivered, his very presence never failing to chill me to the bone.

"Now..." he said, his blood red eyes locking onto mine. "Answer my question."

"I... couldn't sleep..."

"Address me as sir!"

His outburst made me jump. "I couldn't sleep... sir..."

"Do you think that excuses your actions, Miss Matthews?"

"...No, sir."

"Then why, pray tell, were you breaking the most important rule placed at this school?"

Most important? I found this hard to believe

"Don't ignore me Desirae!"

My heart beat fast at that petrifying tone of voice. It was the first time he'd addressed me only by my first name... and I _did not _like it.

"I-I don't know sir..."

My voice was becoming erratic.

The Dark Lord stood, his black robes framing him like a dark enigma. He slammed his hands against the desk.

"I would think that if you were unsure of your motives you wouldn't have gone through with it!" he barked. I felt the urge to shield my face from his rage. "Was it deliberately just to spite me, hmm?! I tell you, you sniveling little girl, you have no idea what I'll do to you!"

_Do you have any idea what they'll do to you?!_

Just when I thought I was going to break down into a fit of hysteria, somebody shouted.

"That's enough, Tom! There is no need to frighten the girl like that!"

The Dark Lord spun sharply to face the canvas of Albus Dumbledore.

"What did you say to me...?" he asked, dangerously. "May I remind you that you are no more than paint and parchment! I could burn you in a heartbeat!"

"Why haven't you then?" Dumbledore questioned, his tone serious. "If I am so easy to kill why haven't you?"

The Dark Lord sneered at Dumbledore. "Believe you me, I will destroy you before this day is out!"

"No!"

I had been barely aware of my own outburst, as if there were some part of my mind that didn't keep its mouth shut in the presence of almost certain death. The Dark Lord turned to face me with an angry swish of his cloak. His expression of anger changed to one of sickening amusement. A low laugh that was full of malice emanated from the back of his throat.

"You have some nerve, girl," he said. "I couldn't imagine anyone speaking out against me... But, not only have you done that, you've also blatantly showed a complete disregard for the school rules... Most impressive."

What? He was congratulating me on my disobedience? I looked up at Dumbledore who was watching intently, his brow furrowed in intense observation.

There was silence. Nobody dared break it. The Dark Lord sat back in his seat.

"_Do not _think this is over..." he stated, staring into my eyes. "For now, you are dismissed."

I immediately turned to leave.

"Miss Matthews."

I stopped.

"Yes... sir?"

"Don't ever talk back to me again..."

"Yes, sir."

I pushed open the doors and hastily descended the stairs. My heart beat heavily against my chest and I took a moment at the bottom to catch my breath.

"Aah, Desirae Matthews. I'm actually glad to see you, for once."

I stopped... That voice. Where was it coming from?

"Over here, by the wall."

My gaze followed the voice and instantly fell on the canvas of Severus Snape.

"...Professor?" I asked. "What are you doing down here?"

"I was... literally thrown out of the 'headmaster's' office..."

I noticed the shattered frame that was littered around the former potion's master's canvas. He glanced around himself.

"Yours is the only face I've seen all day..." he continued. "And, as much as I wish I did, it seems I have no choice but to ask for your assistance."

"In what?"

Snape rolled his eyes. "In the participation of hanging me somewhere else."

I furrowed my brow. "I don't think so, Professor."

"Are you disobeying you superior?" Snape asked with a raised brow.

"No, because you're not my superior," I answered. "You're a painting. And I have no more obligation to help you than anyone else."

I went to walk away.

"Stop. Right. There."

There was something compelling in his voice that forced my body to come to a standstill.

"Look..." he continued. "I suppose Mr Potter neglected to inform people of my real position in this whole war..."

"Real position?"

He ignored me. "I know you want to take down the Dark Lord. I can help you. Being a painting has its... perks-as minimal as they are..."

I was intrigued.

"Take me with you..." he said. "I will share someone else's frame-there are some people in the dungeon that would be perfectly willing to take me. I will move about the castle and keep an eye on the... inhabitants. No doubt I could assist you in some way."

I paused and considered his proposition. Was it a trap?

"How can I trust you?"

Snape rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wait here..."

He disappeared briefly and hastily returned with a second person that tried to squeeze into the Professor's small canvas.

"Headmaster!" I gasped.

Dumbledore was stood uncomfortably close to Snape, a pleasant smile on his face.

"Hello again," he said.

"Make it quick, sir..." Snape grumbled.

Dumbledore nodded. "Miss Matthews, I need you to put your utmost trust in Professor Snape, as much trust as I, myself, place in him."

"But..." I started, incredibly confused. "He killed you!"

"I'll explain later!" Snape said. "Just get on with it!"

"Please, Miss Matthews," Dumbledore's sincere, blue eyes met mine. "For the greater good of Hogwarts, you must do as I ask!"

I bit my lip, hesitant. "Alright..."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled at me. Soon, he was gone, leaving a disgruntled Snape straightening out the creases in his robes. I picked up his canvas.

"Let's go," I said. "You have got some _serious _explaining to do..."


	5. Part 4

In the entrance hall every student was gathered, staring up at a notice on the wall. They all spoke with quick, hushed tones – the norm nowadays; nobody ever spoke properly. But whatever they were saying was lost on me. It was merely a hum at the back of my mind, as if all my senses had been blocked except for my sight that couldn't tear away from the words on that frayed, yellowed piece of parchment.

_! IMPORTANT !_

_ALL STUDENTS LISTED BELOW MUST REPORT TO THE HEADMASTER'S OFFICE ON THE 15__th__ MAY AT 16:00 EXACTLY_

_ANYBODY WHO DOES NOT ATTEND, OR IS LATE, WILL BE PUNISHED ACCORDINGLY_

_Stephanie Dudgoen_

_Sybil Dunbar_

_Aphrodite Edgecombe_

_Cora Finch_

_Ursula Klum_

_Chavelle Leach_

_Desirae Matthews_

_Mercia Pepper_

_Selena Pippins_

_Ione Ramkin_

Although I was aware of the other people on the list, I could not look away from my own name. The two times I had spent in that sorry excuse for a headmaster's office had been two times too many. And now I was expected to go there again? I felt sick to my stomach, wondering what terrible thing I had done to deserve this... But at least this time I would have company.

Stephanie Dudgoen – a Ravenclaw. We had spoken only once when I asked if I could borrow a quill. She had looked at me with so much disgust as she begrudgingly handed her spare quill to me. A goody-two-shoes, with a ridiculously high respect for authority and unable to put a foot wrong.

Sybil Dunbar was a Hufflepuff. Friendly, sweet and helpful. I'd often seen her helping teachers carry things or picking up books that had been dropped by first years. But we had never made any personal contact.

Aphrodite Edgecombe was someone I despised. She was a Slytherin who did not live up to her namesake. Aphrodite always looked like she'd smelt something disgusting and her eyes were small and beady. She was notorious for being a suck-up to teachers and a bully to younger students. I could instantly see that she and the Dark Lord would get on fine.

Cora Finch was a fellow Gryffindor and a friend of mine. We often paired up in potions class just to play 'Consequences' on a piece of torn parchment. We were found out once by Professor Snape who read it out to the class and he gave us a fortnight's detention for including him in the story. At least there would be a friendly face at this 'meeting'.

I didn't know much about Ursula Klum except that she was a Slytherin. She rarely spoke and was only friends with one other person who I heard had been killed during the Battle of Hogwarts.

Chavelle Leach was one of the few Slytherins I could tolerate. She was part of the main clique of Slytherin girls – that included Aphrodite - that believed themselves better than everyone else. Chavelle didn't bully but she was a spectator who would sit in the sidelines and watch without a word. I disliked her for that, but she could be worse.

I had no idea who Mercia Pepper was.

Selena Pippins was one of the few pleasant Slytherins who kept themselves to themselves. Therefore, I didn't know much about her except that there was once a rumour that she had gotten drunk and tried to seduce the Bloody Baron.

Ione Ramkin was a friend of mine from Ravenclaw. She had once helped me out with a Herbology essay and since then she'd been my study buddy. Ione was very work-orientated so we rarely spoke when we studied, but she once told me that her Mother was a member of the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. However, this was only brought up because one of our essays happened to cover the subject of magical law and I'm sure I would not know this otherwise.

I left the entrance hall as quickly as I could and practically sprinted toward Gryffindor tower. The corridors were empty as everyone was either admiring the notice in the entrance hall, or eating breakfast in total silence in the great hall – talking while eating was no longer permitted.

I hastily recited the password to the Fat Lady who started and said,

"Goodness, you almost gave me a heart attack!"

I flailed my arms at her in an attempt to convey that this wasn't a great time for idle chit-chat. She huffed and swung aside, allowing me to practically dive into the common room.

As soon as I was in the dormitory, I flung open my trunk and pulled out the canvas that was wrapped in a piece of brown parcel paper. My violent movements had awoken Snape from his apparently deep sleep.

"What the hell are you doing, woman?!" he cried, his dark eyes flashing menacingly. "Don't be so rough, you ignorant girl!"

"Professor!" I gasped, breathlessly. "There's...! There's a...!"

"A what?!" Snape yelled. "Spit it out, for goodness sake!"

"A notice...!" I continued. "In the hall! From Voldemort!"

"What?" Snape snapped. "Well, what was it about?"

I explained to him what it had said, and recited the names that I could remember. He looked at me with utter disdain.

"So?" he spat. "What the hell does this have to do with me?"

"You're telling me you don't know anything about this?" I asked in disbelief.

"Of course I don't!" Snape retorted. "The Dark Lord's business is his business and his alone!"

"Well someone must know!" I answered, desperately. "What about Professor Dumbledore?"

Snape sighed and passed a hand over his eyes. "Let me guess... you want me to go and ask Albus if he knows anything, right?"

"Please..." I said, hearing the pathetic pleading tone in my voice. I needed to know why my name was on that parchment, why the Dark Lord had taken such an interest in the ten of us.

Snape looked me dead in the eye. "I would rather kiss a werewolf."

With that he disappeared from the canvas. For a moment I sat there in disbelief, gaping at the empty picture in my hands.

"You evil...!" I started before throwing the canvas forcefully back into my trunk and slamming down the lid. I sat in seething silence for about a minute before I sighed heavily and exited the dormitory with stomping footsteps.

With nothing to do and an otherwise painfully boring day ahead of me, I went down to the library in search of some peace and quiet. The place was in ruins now, the walls covered in gaping holes and books that had once been neatly placed in their shelves now scattered on the floor, heavily damaged. A few Ravenclaws had taken it upon themselves to stack up some of the more intact books into little piles and labelled them with magical letters that floated above each pile.

As expected, there was no-one around and the place was eerily quiet, the only sound being a whistling wind that gave me chills. I took a book from the pile marked 'spell books' and sat down in a tattered chair.

For about fifteen minutes I studied a particular duelling spell, making a mental note that it may come in handy one day. My attention was suddenly diverted, however, by a sound that came from what was once the restricted section. Draco Malfoy appeared, walking slowly with his eyes fixed on a book in his hands. I didn't get a chance to see what it was before he noticed me and hurriedly put the book away in his bag. He cleared his throat and I cleared mine, yet it did not help the awkward silence that hung in the air between us.

"...So..." Draco started. "...You're alive..." He kept a straight, seemingly disinterested, face all the while he spoke. But he could act as nonchalantly as he liked – I had seen him at his weakest.

"Yeah," I said with a sarcastic smile. "Seems they're not as ruthless as you made them out to be."

He flinched and I knew I'd touched a nerve. For a moment anger flashed across his face, but he tried desperately not to let it get to him.

"Whatcha got there?" I asked, nodding at his bag.

"None of your business," he answered, walking past me. But instead of leaving, like I thought he would, Draco took a seat as far away from me as possible and pulled out his book. In turn, I went back to my own.

I hadn't realised I'd fallen asleep until the violent shaking awoke me. Startled, I sat bolt upright and looked around in fright. Draco was stood at my side, the same book clutched tightly in his hand as he scowled at me in annoyance.

"What?" I asked, groggily.

"It's half-past five," Draco drawled. "You may not be so lucky with the Death Eaters a second time."

I stood up violently, grabbing the book on the table. "Oh, Merlin's pants..." I cursed. "Thanks for waking me up."

Draco merely grunted and started out of the library. I followed, several steps behind until he diverted down a flight of stairs. With a sigh, I stopped and called out to him.

"Hey!"

He stopped in his tracks and turned slowly round to look at me. I suddenly realised I hadn't thought of a continuation to this conversation.

"Er..." I started. "S-sorry... about what I said before..."

Draco raised a brow at me.

"I'll... er..." I continued. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Draco stared at me for a few seconds before turning on his heel and continuing back the way he was going. I sighed again and passed a hand across my eyes. That poor kid...

When I was back in the common room I felt my fatigue catch up to me. Apologising to some friends who wanted me to join in their game of exploding snap, I ventured upstairs to the dormitory. When I opened my trunk to put away my book, a familiar face greeted me.

"Oh..." I started. "It's you. Finished kissing werewolves?"

Snape scowled at me. "Very funny. I'm sure you don't want the information I gathered for you then."

The Professor went to leave but I called out for him to come back. He did so with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"I thought so..." he said. "I've been asking around and found out that the people the Dark Lord has called to his office in two days from now are to have a second interview with him."

"A second interview?" That sickly feeling reappeared. I had barely survived one, now a second?

"Albus has also given me some important information just for you," Snape continued. "Don't you feel special?"

"What is it?"

"There is a room on the left corridor of the seventh floor opposite the tapestry of Bambas the Barmy," said Snape, slowly as if talking to a child. "Inside you'll find someone who will be of great help to you."

"Who?"

"Now if I knew that I would tell you, wouldn't I?" Snape rolled his eyes.

"Alright," I said. "We'll go there tomorrow."

"'We'?"

"Yes, 'we'. You'll have to accept the fact that we're partners now."

"Oh dear God..."

I ignored him and said goodnight, before wrapping him back in parcel paper. With a loud yawn and a complete disregard for my lack of pyjamas, I crawled under my burgundy sheets and drifted off to sleep.


	6. Part 5

"Well...? Where's the room?"

I stood in front of a high, blank stone wall, a look of bewilderment on my face. Snape sighed in exasperation between my palms. Where I stood was supposed to be the entrance to a room... But there was nothing there.

"We... are in the right place, aren't we?" I asked, turning to the tapestry behind us that depicted a man in blue robes trying to teach ballet slipper and tutu-clad trolls to dance.

"Of course we are," Snape answered with monotonous irritation. "Your lack of faith in my ability to repeat instructions is disturbing."

I ignored him and turned back to the wall, my brow furrowed in confusion.

"Why would Dumbledore tell us to go here?"

"I'm sure he has his reasons..." Snape responded as I propped him up next to the tapestry. With lack of a better idea, I pressed my ear to the cold wall and began to shimmy along it from left to right.

"What are you _doing_?" Snape asked. I could practically hear him roll his eyes.

"There has got to be a hidden door or something..." I murmured. When I reached the end of the wall I started back the other way, this time knocking along the masonry. Snape sighed loudly, clearly conveying his disapproval.

"Have a better idea?" I asked as I, again, reached the end of the wall and began to shimmy back the other way.

Snape took his time answering my question as if he was trying to block out my apparent stupidity. I could feel his disapproving eyes on my back.

"A hidden object charm might work, perhaps."

It wasn't a question - it was a blatant command. I stopped and shot a reserved glance at the smug Professor as I withdrew my wand and held it aloft. But before I had the chance to cast a spell, the centre of the wall began to morph and change. I watched in stunned silence as an ornate stone door gradually and gracefully appeared. My wand arm slowly fell.

"What's happening?" Snape asked. I picked him up and stood opposite the new door.

"A door appeared..."

Snape smirked. "I knew it would work."

"I didn't do anything."

"Excuse me?"

I looked left and right down the corridor before approaching the door with slow, hesitant footsteps as if it might lunge at me. With just a touch of my outstretched fingers, the door swung wide and silently open, revealing a huge, high-ceilinged room. I couldn't bring myself to move.

"Are you waiting for hell to freeze over?" Snape groaned. "Just go in."

I swallowed and looked down at the irritating Professor before taking his advice and stepping inside. Once I was in the room, the door swung silently shut behind me.

"Merlin's beard..." I breathed. The room was huge and filled to the ceiling with neat shelves that contained all manner of magical instruments and objects that would be found in a DADA classroom. Along the walls were hammocks and sleeping bags that had quite recently been slept in, and bags that may have belonged to students.

"What is this?" I asked. "How did I not know about this room?"

"Even I was unaware of this place,"said Snape.

I walked further into the strange room, my footsteps oddly quiet on the sleek, polished stone floor. It was eerie - like an abandoned building that had once been thriving with life. Worst of all, I couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. At that moment I noticed something at the far end of the room. It was a huge painting that took up a sizable portion of space on the wall but it was empty. The frame showed only a dark and gloomy background of a forest.

"I am most definitely not aware of this painting," Snape murmured.

Just then I felt a dull prodding pain in my lower back. I stiffened, fear stunting the use of my voice. Fortunately, the attacker did the speaking for me.

"Who are you...?"

That voice... It was familiar somehow. But it sounded broken and almost unhuman.

I swallowed. "Professor Dumbledore... sent me..."

There was a thick silence.

"He said there would be someone here who could help me..."

"Who _are _you?"

The question was more forceful this time and the pain in my back became more poignant.

"Desirae..." I answered. "Desirae Matthews."

Suddenly the pain was gone and I heard a withered croak of,

"Des?"

My eyes widened. This person knew me? With slow, deliberate movements, I turned slowly on my heel and saw the sunken, sallow face of Neville Longbottom.

"N... Neville?!" I gasped.

"Des!" Neville squeaked. "I can't believe... Is it really you?"

Snape's canvas slipped out of my hands as I flung my arms around Neville's shoulders.

"You're okay!" I said. "When they didn't find your body I just..."

I trailed off as I drew away from him. To me my excitement seemed unjustified. Neville was shy and quiet so we had rarely spoken save for the times he helped me in Herbology. We were friends, of course, but I never tried to get to know him better and neither did I repay him for all the times he'd assisted me. But at this moment, to see him after thinking he was dead all this time was like seeing someone who had been raised from the grave. I was extremely happy and couldn't wipe the grin from my face. This reaction just made it clear to me how much I'd missed him.

"Have you been here all this time?" I asked.

Neville nodded. "I've had Winky bring me food from the kitchens." At my confused expression he added, "A House-Elf. But there's only so much she can bring me at a time... Plus I haven't seen her in over a week..."

At my feet there was a clearing of the throat.

"If you don't mind..." the Professor drawled.

With a quiet apology I retrieved Snape's canvas and held it up. I heard a low chuckle emanate from him.

"Well, well, well..." he said. "Mr Longbottom..."

The look on Neville's face plus the spluttering cry of 'Professor Snape?!' made me laugh - the first time I'd laughed in a long time. Neville constantly kept glancing between me and the canvas before he said,

"What are you doing with him?"

I shrugged. "He's wormed his way into my life and now I can't shake him off."

Neville smiled but it was wary. I remembered that he probably still thought of Professor Snape as a traitor. The three of us sat against the wall beneath the eerie painting and I explained as much as I could to him. When I was finished, he stared blankly down the empty expanse of room and said,

"Wow..."

"I know..." I smiled. There was a silence that was quickly broken, once again, by Professor Snape's loud throat clearing.

"Miss Matthews, I believe you've forgotten something important..." he said.

At the words I was struck with realisation. Neville jumped at the loud 'Oh!' I emitted.

"Neville!" I started. "Dumbledore told me that there was someone in this room that could help me. And since you're the only one here I'm assuming he meant you."

Neville looked taken aback. "Me? What am I supposed to do?"

I shrugged, truthfully. Neville looked incredibly worse for wear and I doubted he could really do much in terms of 'helping me'. But he looked thoughtful for a moment before springing to his feet as fast as his run-down body could and walking briskly over to a large trunk. He dug through it, throwing clothes and quills and parchment over his shoulder before he eventually found what he was looking for. When he stood up he was holding a blank piece of folded parchment in one hand and a kind of silvery cloak in the other.

"I managed to retrieve this from the grounds before the Death Eaters could find it," Neville said, holding up the cloak.

"What is it?" I asked.

Instead of answering, Neville swung the cloak over his shoulders. I gasped loudly as his whole body from the neck down completely disappeared, as if it had never been there in the first place.

"An invisibility cloak..." Snape whispered. But that was impossible... Invisibility cloaks didn't exist!

"Are you saying this is a real, honest-to-goodness, invisibility cloak?" I asked, groping out toward Neville and feeling my finger tips brush against something light and smooth like silk.

Neville smiled. "That it is!" he said.

I found it impossible to close my mouth. I was absolutely astonished... it was like something from a fairy-tale.

"Who did it belong to?" I asked.

"Harry..." Neville said sadly.

I stopped. Harry Potter had been in possession of an invisibility cloak all this time? The more I learnt about him, the more he continued to astound me.

"He also had this in his bag." Neville shrugged off the cloak and held up the piece of parchment. "It's a map, but..." I watched as Neville rotated the blank parchment over and over in his hands, searching intently for something. Honestly, I was unable to see how a map would be of any use to us.

"What's it a map of?" I asked.

"Hogwarts," Neville answered. "And it shows every single secret passageway around the castle. Plus, it tells you where any person is at any time."

In shock I snatched the parchment from Neville's grasp and began to mimic his movements. I turned it over several times, unfolded it and re-folded it but was otherwise unable to find any map.

"It has a kind of password," said Neville, making gestures that suggested I should be more careful with it. "I saw Harry use it during DA meetings but I can't recall what he used to say to it. Something like 'I swear an oath to the map'..."

I glanced at him, confused. What kind of map makes you take an oath?

"Neville, you have to remember!" I cried, grabbing fistfuls of his grubby shirt. "This could be essential!"

Neville pried my hands away from him, looking apologetic. I sighed in frustration and took the map between my fingers.

"Please, please, please show me the map!" I pleaded. For a brief moment my face lit up as writing began to form across the paper. But my bright smile ultimately faded when I read it.

_Mr. Moony offers his condolences to Miss Matthews and kindly requests Mr. Longbottom invest in a remembrall._

_Mr. Prongs agrees with Mr. Moony and encourages Miss Matthews to keep trying._

_Mr. Padfoot would like to apologise for finding the situation hilarious and offers the reassurance that they will find the answer._

_Mr. Wormtail also finds the situation laughable and suggests Mr. Longbottom be better suited for dire times such as this._

My mouth fell open and I stood there, gaping like a fish. In frustration I shoved the map into Neville's chest and flopped into a hammock, my hands over my face.

"Who are these people?" Neville asked, squinting at the parchment. I merely shrugged in response. "Don't worry. I'm sure I'll remember it sooner or later."

"Sooner would be best..." I murmured.

With Snape's sudden reminder that it was coming up to five o'clock I took the cloak from Neville, said a heartfelt goodbye and left the room, but not before Neville informed me of how to get back in. I felt satisfied with the item tucked safely away under my jumper and when I arrived back at the dormitory I put it away with the Professor in my trunk.

"It's quite cramped in here, you know..." he said just before I could close the lid. I looked at him, skeptically.

"Since when could paintings experience claustrophobia?"

"When you shove them in a dark, smelly trunk with nothing to do except twiddle their thumbs."

"Go to another painting then."

I was about to close the lid before I flung it open again.

"And how exactly do you smell?" I asked.

"I don't. I merely assumed. And based on your reaction I will also assume I'm correct."

I scowled at him. "Goodnight, Professor."

With that I closed the lid on both the Professor and the cloak before stealing away downstairs to the common room. Once on the very bottom step I was greeted by two forceful hands on my shoulders.

"Des!"

"Cora!"

I met the frightened blue eyes of Cora Finch whose fingers dug painfully into my shoulders.

"What does he want?"

"What?"

"You-Know-Who!" she cried. "What does he want?"

Her outburst struck me with the painful reality that we were expected in the Headmaster's office the next day. Grimacing in a mixture of pain and nausea, I wrenched her hands away from me and grasped them reassuringly.

"I don't know," I said, slowly. It was a half-truth as I was aware of the event of a second interview. But other than that I was as clueless as Cora.

"You'll go with me, right?" she asked, a pleading tone to her voice. "We'll go at the same time, yeah?"

I smiled weakly and nodded. And there I was thinking I was a wreck... It looked like Cora was more in need of moral support.

That night was another sleepless one for me and - based on the occasional knowing glances - for Cora as well. The next day, four o'clock came along far too quickly.


End file.
